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2019 SpringT3POETS

Three Poems

By December 19, 2019March 29th, 2024No Comments
© Night sky, Waimamaku, circa 1957, Waimamaku, by Eric Lee-Johnson. © Te Papa. CC BY-NC-ND 4.0. Te Papa (O.009129/01)

© Night sky, Waimamaku, circa 1957, Waimamaku, by Eric Lee-Johnson. © Te Papa. CC BY-NC-ND 4.0. Te Papa (O.009129/01)


each star is an unspoken apology
ticket to a modern Shakespeare remake at the Civic that I couldn’t afford


the moon is a love song in a foreign language
we played tug-of-war with her faces, never singing the same melody


never gave you a Saturn ring
afraid. to retire our spaceship for coffee stains


the milky way, our gospel but
courage was the sun in our night sky


I clung to shooting stars with desperate hands.
you clung to my ankle.


you eclipsed me
black hole swallowed me


the night sky was a flower bed above a coffin
I gave you all the star bouquets


by midnight, the only thing left of me was a body.


Response to ‘Cheek’ by Tusiata Avia

wind bites
yanking my long hair


along in the current
sand swallows my naked arms


there he is
young man’s hot hands


hamstring on my hairless thigh
single scream stolen by sky


like a mime.
me, on tiptoes


pressing a prison box
his thick fingers, cold ring clasping


my hands, like a first date
dark cinema in sixth grade


leaving my palms clammy
like, the first time ‘i love you’



Cable car rooftop perspective:

long white hair dips
into soy chai latte
green umbrella outside Starbucks
people don’t like lids on their to-go cups here
guess they like spiced hair


Bob Dylan buildings
stumble over chewed gum
and homeless addicts
stabbing veins with yesterday’s smiles
jack-o’-lantern faces to the sky


on Lombard Street
teen girl’s Birkenstocks
trample busker’s coin fedora
quarters and receipts sparkle sidewalk
bitch doesn’t leave a dime


Apple airpod yellowed by earwax
fallen from an ear on Union corner
how Vincent van Gogh


woman leashes kitten
drags him down the sidewalk
coat sandpapered off his hind
leaves Hansel-Gretel trail of fur behind


100% natural sweetener truck
tips over, spills this plastic sugar on the crosswalk
blends into the white lines
pedestrians bring their umbrellas
believing in beach sand


water helps rush turds towards the sewer
hosed by man in blue uniform
here we got a problem
of people shitting in the streets


someone fakes bible verses into a megaphone
her partner identifying victims
forcing business cards into unprotected pockets
false good intentions


man hangs portuguese fish sign in door frame
smooching split lips at that harsh fish
like a lonely man


turning onto Jackson street
clotheslined by the power lines
I fell off that car
and put a crack in the spine
of my guitar

Zoe Webb Sagarin

Zoe moved to New Zealand from New Mexico six years ago. She studies English and Psychology. She is a committee member of the Veda Club and the Rock and Alpine Club.